


Left 4 Dead 2: Aftermath (short)

by Sir_Carl_Poppa



Category: Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1745399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Carl_Poppa/pseuds/Sir_Carl_Poppa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the helicopter leaves New Orleans, it goes down at an unknown location.  Coach and Nick are suspicious about the cause of the crash, while Ellis struggles to maintain his happy-go-lucky attitude as things continually get worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left 4 Dead 2: Aftermath (short)

**Author's Note:**

> I've read a handful of L4D2 fics and I've noticed so many people having Ellis use the contraction "y'all" incorrectly (often mistyping it as well as "ya'll"...) being a southerner from Tennessee, the state above his, I can tell you all (y'all) that no one from around here would ever say "y'all" when addressing a single person. It's a word strictly for addressing groups of people, not a lone person, so he'd never use it that way. I've also never heard him use it that way in the game either, so it really bothers me when people do that (although I think the subtitles in the game do misspell it as "ya'll"). Another note I want to make is I'm not going to exaggerate his accent as much as others. I know how people from around here talk and I know how Ellis talks, and I'm going to type that as legibly and logically as possible.
> 
> Now that that's out of the way, I also want to add that this is my first attempt to write a Left 4 Dead fic. I feel like I didn't really give Coach or Rochelle much purpose, or capture their character properly, but I didn't want to do what lots of people do and "conveniently" separate the survivors. That seems awkward and redundant and I wanted to include them. The plot is something I basically just came up with as I was writing it because I wanted to get something written and I'm sure this is flawed to high hell, but this is basically just a test to see what people think of my writing and how much work I still need to do.
> 
> This story will most likely not be finished as it isn't that good and I don't have much to go on with it, but I might do something later that includes some of the ideas featured here.
> 
> I think that about sums it up. Hopefully y'all will like it and I done good, but I reckon we'll see.

“Ow… damn, Nick… I don’t feel like I’m gonna make it,” Ellis whined, rubbing his temples as the older man stood above him, a palm outstretched to help the southerner up.  His vision was blurry and everything felt either numb or achy or both.  He’d certainly felt worse during this apocalypse, more than once, and he’d felt closer to death many times too.  That aside, this was a really bad situation, and he couldn’t help but notice that he was laid across a hunk of metal with some other bits of debris around him.

“Stop talking that crap and get up, Ellis, we gotta find the others,” Nick said firmly.

“Shit… okay,” Ellis replied slowly, reaching up and taking the conman’s proffered hand.  It didn’t take long to get him on his feet again.  He was becoming more aware of his surroundings as his vision slowly began to clear, and found himself surrounded by flames and smoking wreckage.  “What the hell happened anyway, I thought we were finally gettin’ evacced.”

“What did I tell ya?  We’re not that lucky,” Nick replied pessimistically, picking up the M16 he’d set down to help Ellis up.   Ellis had noticed the other man was never far from a firearm.  He was really cautious, or just that mistrustful and pessimistic. “Now grab a weapon in case we run into any zombies and let’s find Coach and Ro.”

“Alright, alright, always in a hurry,” the younger man complained, looking around for his gun, or ax, and not seeing anything but more fire and smoke.  At last he was able to make out the helicopter’s blades stuck in the ground nearby, and even closer, his ax was buried firmly in the earth.  He stepped over to it and grabbed the handle with both hands, trying to pull it free.  He struggled with it for a moment, pressing his heels down for better leverage and finally hefted it up from the ground, turning back to look at Nick.  Panting slightly, he spoke again, “Shit, shit, shit… where are we anyway?”

“I don’t know.  We could be anywhere, wasn’t exactly paying attention to where the chopper was going before it went down,” Nick replied, stepping over a hunk of metal.  He started walking ahead, treading carefully and keeping an eye out around them.  Ellis followed him, still somewhat dazed from the crash.  He wasn’t sure about much, but he knew he had to keep close to Nick.  He couldn’t afford to be alone out here.  That made him start wondering where their friends were, and he started feeling kind of anxious at the thought that they could be in trouble somewhere in this crash.  “Damn, I can’t see anything…” Nick complained.

“COACH?  ROCHELLE?” he called out into the smoke.  Ellis coughed a few times behind him, trying to clear the smoke from his lungs.  “It’s too quiet, kid.  I don’t like it.”

“Do you think Coach and Ro made it alright?  I mean it’d be a real shame if they didn’t… I really liked havin’ them around…” Ellis murmured, almost as if he hadn’t even heard Nick speak.  The gambler rolled his eyes in frustration.  This kid never seemed to be able to focus, the quiet wasn’t natural, and could have indicated infected presence, but Ellis was only worried about Coach and Rochelle.  Not that Nick wasn’t too—just that he had his priorities in order.  Coach and Rochelle were MIA at the moment, and therefore the survival of himself and Ellis was much more relevant.  Not to mention, he had no way of knowing how they were unless the duo found them.

“Do I look like a psychic, dammit?  I don’t know any more than you do.”

For a few minutes, they kept walking on completely silent.  Ellis felt a bit chastised and dejected, wishing that just for once Nick could act like the nice guy the younger man knew he could be.  The way he figured it, Nick only acted the way he did because someone had broken his trust in the past.  While he was busy thinking about that, Nick was trying to pay attention in case there were any signs of the special infected, or of their fellow survivors.  It would be easy for a crash to have killed anyone, even Coach or Rochelle.  Nick silently prayed that the other two were okay; he wouldn’t want to go on without them.  In the event that they had perished… well, he was glad to have Ellis still at least, even if the kid could be a pain from time to time with his childlike lack of attention and optimism.

“Y’know, this kinda reminds me of this one time, my buddy Keith tried to fly a chopper, an’ he didn’t know what he was doin’ at all, but this pilot was with him to help him out…” Ellis started quietly, wanting not to think about the possibility that Coach and Ro were dead.  But though he smiled through the stories and talked of Keith quite often, those stories didn’t help much either.  He really missed Keith, and the life he’d had before, even if he did love his new friends and wouldn’t ever want to have not met them.  It was hard to decide what was better, so he didn’t like to think serious much.  He like to distract himself from the bad things so he wouldn’t feel too bad and start being like Nick—or just give up entirely.  He kept talking, telling this story about Keith, but Nick tuned him out.  He didn’t have the heart to tell the kid to shut up right now, but he couldn’t afford to be distracted from the task at hand.  Until he heard rustling in the debris, that is.

“-and man, did he crash hard.  There was smoke and fire EVERYWHERE.  Third degree burns on 90% of his body-” Ellis was saying, chuckling to himself a bit as he did.

“Ellis, be quiet for a minute, would ya?  I heard something over there,” Nick said, pointing.  Ellis instantly went quiet and stared in the direction Nick had indicated.  Sounds could mean their friends.  The young man stared, listening for himself.  A moan could be heard coming from the other side of the body of the chopper, which lay planted in the ground before them.  Ellis smiled, recognizing the voice that had produced the sound.  This was just what he’d needed right about now.

“Sure ’nough, that sounds like Rochelle!” Ellis exclaimed, rushing towards the sound.

“Ellis wait! Be careful!  There could be infected around,” Nick cautioned, following after him at a jog.  Ellis dismissed the idea.  They’d have heard something more than Rochelle by now if there were any zombies around.  He tore around the flaming metal and let a huge grin split his face in half when he actually laid eyes on the female group member.

“Oh man, I’m so glad you’re alright, do you reckon Coach is too?” he asked her eagerly, rushing over to hug the woman.

“Ugh… I’m not sure ‘alright’ is the right word Ellis… but I’m sure Coach is around here somewhere too,” Rochelle answered, breaking free of the hug and dusting herself off.  “Is Nick with you?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” the conman replied, stepping around the chopper so that he could see her too.  “Hey, it’s good to see it’s not just the two of us.”

“You can sure say that again,” Ellis chirped, “We was worried you and Coach might not’ve survived the crash… I’m still not entirely sure what caused it anyway.”

“Do either of you boys know where we are?” the reporter asked, holstering a pistol that Nick noticed was her second.  _Good girl,_ he thought, coughing, as he and Ellis shook their heads.

“Greeeat,” she sighed.

“Hey, let’s get out of this smoke and see if we can find Coach,” Nick suggested.

“Right.”

“You got it.”

He led the other two around some crates and the body of the chopper’s pilot.  He only glanced at it briefly.  The guy had still been human—this wasn’t like some of the other crashes they’d had.  Something else had caused this.  He seemed to remember something exploding before they’d hit the ground.  Maybe they’d been shot down?  He wouldn’t be surprised.  He started to voice his thoughts out loud, but he decided to wait, at least for a little bit, until they could get out of the wreckage at least.

“Cooooooach!” Rochelle called.

“Over here!” a distant deep voice replied.

“Ohooo man!  It’s Coach!  He’s really fine!” Ellis called out, leading the way eagerly towards the voice.  Nick, for not even close to the first time, marveled at Ellis’ perpetual good mood and excitability.  He was like a kid or something.  The trio arrived at the edge of the wreckage, noticing a steep incline, at the top of which stood the heavyset form of their fourth teammate.  The smoke was thinner here, fortunately, and it was easier to climb away from the debris.  Coach was waiting for them, a bat in hand and a pistol at his waist.

They seemed to always have just enough luck to be armed at all times, but not much more than that. It had been a hell of a journey from Savannah to here… wherever here was.  Ellis was still leading the way, and he had to stop to put the ax on his back so he could use his hands to climb up.  He was chattering up to Coach as they climbed.  The boy was so glad to see the oldest member of their group fine and dandy.  Coach and become something of a father-figure to him, and he really didn’t wanna go this without him.  Hell, he didn’t wanna go it without any of his fellow survivors.  He didn’t think he could do it without all of them.

“We hoped you were alright, too, Coach.  Y’got any idea what sent the chopper down?  One minute we was fine and the next I was feelin’ like one of them zombies.  We saw the pilot back there.  He didn’t make it… but he wasn’t no zombie, sure as hell not.  You didn’t shoot him did ya Nick?”

“ _No._ ”

“I hate to say it, boy, but I think we were shot down,” Coach told him softly.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Nick admitted.

“What?  Naw… no one woulda shot us down.  Right, Ro?”

“I… don’t know, Ellis.”

“Look, something blew up before the helicopter went down.  So either we were shot, there was a severe malfunction, or the zombies have evolved again and now have explosive projectiles.  Take your pick, but either way, we’re stranded and on our own again.  We’re not being rescued,” Nick said harshly.

“Well… ya don’t gotta say it like that,” the southerner whined.

“Let’s just find out where we are,” Coach suggested, indicating the road nearby.  The others nodded and began walking along after him.  There was silence as they all pondered, even Ellis remaining quiet.  The road was cracked and abandoned, there were no sounds, except the crackling of the flames behind them.  No animal sounds, no infected sounds, just an eerie silence.  It gave the survivors the creeps, and none of it was surprising to Nick.  He could just imagine a smoker hiding in an adjacent tree, or over a rise; or a hunter lurking in the bushes; or a spitter in the shadows.  They were awful quiet if they were, though.

Ellis shifted his ax uncomfortably, wondering if they’d ever get out of this mess.  He was kind of angry with himself for liking Nick so much, and really troubled by the thought that someone, some _human_ might have shot them down and prevented their getaway.  He couldn’t see why any person could ever fight against other people during a freaking _zombie apocalypse_.  It just didn’t make sense, people had to stick together, or they wouldn’t beat this and make it out okay.  Well, Ellis liked to think he’d make it out of this, he had Coach and Ro and Nick with him, and they could take on anything together, even without other people.  But what if the world stayed like this forever?  People just traveling from place to place, looking for a safehouse and dodging zombies, fighting when they had to, living on food that was canned or going stale, risking death every single day… He didn’t like to think about that.

He would have started telling another Keith story, but before them, a gate became visible, behind it: a town.  It was dark—there weren’t any street lights on, and there were no signs of people.  The four walked through the gate, only finding the town to be just what they were used to.  Vacant.  There were broken windows and fragments of glass almost everywhere they looked.  There were empty cars with their doors left hanging open.  There were bicycles laying around abandoned; toys, soda cans, household items, scraps of paper drifting around like tumbleweeds.

“I don’t like this y’all,” Ellis whispered, “This place is totally empty.  Only way a place can be so lonely is if them infected are around… I miss seein’ lively towns and live folks.”

“We all do Ellis,” Rochelle assured him.

“Well, not me,” Nick said calmly, “I’d like to live in a town like this—you know, if there weren’t any zombies around.”

Ellis hated that he’d just said something like that, and wondered if he’d lose Nick assuming this all ended favorably someday.  That’s precisely when they heard the growling.

“Oh great.  I knew this would happen,” Nick complained.  They looked around for the hunter that was no doubt the source of the terrifying sound.  Coach slowly secured his bat on his back and drew his pistol.  Rochelle drew both of hers as well.  Ellis tightened his grip on his ax, pulling it close to his body, and Nick—well, he’d never put away his M16.  He was always prepared for trouble.  The survivors’ eyes darted about, judging the shadows of the buildings and wondering where it was.  It couldn’t be far away, considering the slowly increasing volume.

“Oh shit, it’s getting close now,” Coach warned, though even as he did, his voice was drowned out by Ellis’ yells of terror as the creature flew at him from who knows which direction.  The young man screamed continuously and tried to maneuver his ax around to hit the monster with it and get free.  He wasn’t able to do much more than use the ax’s handle to keep the hunter from clawing or biting him, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep that up.  He called for help and soon bullets were tearing through the beast’s flesh and knocking it aside.  A foot hit it roughly, knocking it away and the southerner saw the distinctive shape of an M16 moving over him and firing into the hunter.

“Damn, thanks, Nick, I appreciate it,” he gasped, picking himself up.

“Yeah, just… be more careful from now on.  I can’t lose you yet.”

Ellis smiled.  That was high praise coming from Nick, and it made him feel better about the way the older man had been acting lately, so he replied, “I wouldn’t wanna lose you either, Nick.”

“Hey, don’t get sentimental now, kid,” the older man snapped, moving forward again.  Suddenly cries filled the air, the sounds of the horde awakened to the fact that prey was among them.  The swarm would be upon them soon.  Ellis cursed to himself.  The hunter’s yells, and his own, and Nick’s gunfire, had surely given away their exact location to the infected who’d been hiding somewhere in the city.  He hated that he’d been right about this place, and he felt dog tired and slowly was losing what little spirit he had left.

“This city ain’t as deserted as it appears.  Come on y’all, let’s get out of here before they find us,” Coach commanded, heading towards a building whose door was open.

“In there!” Rochelle called, just in case the other two hadn’t perceived Coach’s trajectory.  The group moved in quickly, shutting and locking the door behind them.  It only took a few moments before they could hear the infected pounding on the door.  Rochelle started pushing a desk towards the door in an attempt to bar entry of the infected.  Coach rushed to help her.

“Hey Nick, help me find a way to cover this window before they notice they can get in,” Ellis said, putting down his weapon and stepping into the next room.  Nick followed him, hanging on to his M16.  The duo didn’t see anything of use in covering the window, but they did find a man standing in a door leading to the outside, bearing a rifle.  “Heyey another survivor, Nick look!  Excuse me, sir, but could you help us?  Is there some place to hide around here?  Our friends an’ us could use a hand right about now.”

“…Yes.  Follow me.  We have a base here,” the man said in a strangely monotonous voice as he turned and stepped back outside.

“Hey, great, man, let us get the other two members of our group.  Don’t go nowhere,” Ellis instructed, turning and making his way back into the other room.

“I don’t trust him, Ellis, let’s just kill those zombies and get out of here ourselves,” Nick suggested.

“Naw, Nick, didn’t you hear ’im?  He said they got a base ’round here.  We could use some rest and food.  An’ why wouldn’t he be trustworthy, huh?  He’s a live human… and he’s got a gun.  He’s obviously another survivor, and those have helped us before.”

“Um, Ellis, could we think this through?  He’s a live human and he’s got a gun.”

“You don’t trust nobody, Nick!” Coach interjected.

“We don’t have time to judge his character, we need to get out of here fast.  The window won’t hold long,” Rochelle added.  Nick groaned.

“Why do you never listen to me?  All of you.  We’re walking into a trap.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay here on your own,” Coach offered.

“Ha, very funny.  Let’s just get this over with, shall we.”

Ellis picked up his ax and led the way, stepping back into the other room.  Nick wasn’t done complaining, yet though, and Ellis had to wonder why he was always so negative.

“He was standing there in the doorway waiting for us.  The fucking zombies are coming and he’s completely calm just waiting.  I don’t like it.  What if he’s the one who shot us down?  You guys don’t know what you’re doing.  We can find other things to board this place up with and hold out until the worst passes.”

“I hate to admit it, but Nick does have a point,” Coach conceded.

“Thank you.”

“What other choice do we have?  If we just stay here, we’ll be sitting ducks,” Rochelle reminded them.

“At least here, we’re not walking into a trap.”

“Waiting around to die is better?”

The exchange back and forth continued, the three survivors standing still in the doorway, trying to come to a consensus.  Ellis gnawed at his lip, turning his gaze from the door they’d seen the man in to his three friends and back again.  He didn’t want Nick to be right, but he couldn’t just assume the man was wrong.  After all, Nick was really smart.  He was cool and quick-thinking and he tended to make good decisions, unlike Ellis, who was irrational, acted without thinking things all the way through, and trusted way too easily, often making poor decisions.  His friends were still arguing, and so the redneck decided to put a stop to it.

“Whoa, guys: we’ll just ask ’im if he shot us down or not.  Come on, now we ain’t got time to be squabblin’ like in-laws,” he said, as if it were a genius plan.  From the look on all their faces, it sounded a lot stupider than he’d imagined.

“Ask him?  Ask him, Ellis?  Why the hell would he tell us the truth if he was!” Nick reprimanded the southerner.

“Well unless someone else has got a better idea,” Ellis retorted huffily.

“Any idea is better than this one you idiotic hillbilly!” the gambler snapped, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

“You don’t mean that, Nick,” Ellis muttered quietly.  Nick didn’t respond, and a hush fell over them.  The youngest member of the group looked at his feet, feeling lower than he had previously.  Nick was right, that’s why he felt so bad.  He was never coming up with good ideas and he seemed to always just be irritating the other man.  He felt pretty worthless and didn’t really know what they should do at all.  They could stay here and die, or go with the other man and die, and either way, Nick would be mad at him when they’d go.  And he was mad at himself.  Why should someone with such a stick up his ass be so important to him anyway?  Why did he like seeing Nick come to his rescue more than Ro or Coach?  They were much nicer to him, and much more tolerant.  They weren’t so harsh.  But maybe he needed the harshness Nick provided.  It was kind of like a wake-up call.  As much as he wanted not to, he had to face reality sometimes.

“Whether we can trust this guy or not,” Coach started finally, “we have got to get out of here or we are going to be overrun.  Let’s get out there and see what’s what.”

Ellis looked up at Nick, who nodded at Coach, and started walking towards Ellis and the other door.  The younger man felt the corners of his mouth tug slightly upward and he swiveled back around to stumble out into the street behind the little building in search of the other survivor they’d seen.  He wasn’t in sight though.  Not at first.  A shout in another tongue filled the air and upon locating its source, Ellis’ jaw dropped noticing the man perched at a mounted gun on a nearby roof—the gun pointed at them.

“Aw shit.  Why are you always right Nick?” Rochelle complained.

“It’s a talent,” Nick shot back.

“Move, move, let’s get outta here!” Ellis cawed as the gun began whirring and the infected swarmed towards them.  “No no no!  This ain’t RIGHT!”  He ducked to the right, rolling behind a trashcan and staring towards an orange drawing on a building ahead of him.  It was the symbol for a safe room, and an arrow pointing to the direction.  “Guys, guys!  SAFE ROOM!!!”  But the heavy machine gun was rattling off bullets already and the cries of the undead were all around him.  He couldn’t hear if the others replied.  The young man looked back, but didn’t see them before one of the infected was in his face, blood smeared across its maw, an eye torn out and its gray flesh decaying and cracking.  Ellis cried out and stepped back on impulse, lifting his ax and hacking into the zombie.  He squinted as its blood splattered onto him and wrenched his weapon out of the corpse and then started running towards the safe room.  He was close to the drawing when he heard the cry of a smoker over the sounds of the whirring mounted gun.

“Shit shit shit, not now, not now…” he muttered to himself, pushing himself to move faster, but the tongue wrapped around him and began to drag him backwards.  Ellis screamed, trying to tug himself free of the smoker’s trap even though he knew it was no use.  The knot around him tightened and he smashed against the wall.  His breathing became difficult, his vision blurred.  He kept yelling to the best of his ability, but his throat was going dry and sore.  He didn’t even notice that the machine gun had gone silent, didn’t notice that his friends were shouting his name.  He was starting to lose consciousness, and the country boy was terrified that this was finally the end.  He continued weakly pulling on the smoker’s tongue, desperately trying to hang on to dear life…

And suddenly, he wasn’t being constricted anymore.  He was falling, falling down and then pain jolted through his feet and he crumpled to the earth, gasping for air and trying to process what exactly had just happened.  Smoke had filled his lungs, and he was coughing as he tried to gulp down air, despite the pain in his feet, legs, and ass.

“Ellis, sweetie, are you alright?” he heard Rochelle call out.  At her voice, he looked up to see his team running towards him.  He wanted to apologize to them all, thank them, admit that he didn’t really know what he was doing, but he couldn’t speak.  He still didn’t have enough air.  He just nodded silently, tears welling up in his eyes.

“God, Ellis, don’t scare me like that,” Nick scolded him softly as he arrived, reaching down a hand to help the younger man up.  Coach had made it over to him as well and was also holding out a hand for him.  Ellis reached up with both hands, accepting help from them both, but when he was standing, he cried out and fell towards Nick as his ankle gave out on him.

“Shit… I think I hurt myself real bad this time…” he mumbled.

“You gonna make it boy, it ain’t that bad,” Coach told him.  Ellis winced and turned his eyes downwards to have a look at it, even as he asked them about it.

“Is it bleedin’ y’all?”

“That fall was pretty hard.  We’ll have to bandage you up when we get to that safe room,” Rochelle said, neglecting to answer his question, but Ellis could see his pant leg getting darker and becoming a reddish hue.  He nodded slowly and let Nick help him along as they started walking—or rather, limping—in the direction indicated.  Soon they found another arrow, and then another, and soon they were staring at a barred red door before them.

“Look Ellis, there it is.  You’ll be okay soon, just… hang on,” Nick told him.

 

 

“I’m awful sorry y’all… I just wanted things to work out right for once,” he was saying as Rochelle bandaged his ankle.  He’d noticed each of them bore a few new cuts and bruises, and couldn’t help feeling like it was all his fault.  He was just so tired of this existence.

“You don’t gotta apologize, Ellis.  It ain’t your fault the chopper crashed,” Coach reminded him.

“He’s right, sweetie, don’t dwell on it.  You didn’t cause any of this,” Ro assured him.  Ellis smiled weakly.

“Thanks, y’all.”

The safe room was small—containing no food and little in the way of defense.  It was dim and dank, and the floor was laden with six makeshift beds constructed from bits of hay and potato sacks.  There was a table against one wall and the only other furniture in the room was two bookshelves placed next to each door out, for the purpose of barring the doors against the infected.  That was it.  Nothing was left in the room except for the survivors and the things they’d brought along with them.

“There, good as new,” Rochelle told the country boy with a smile as she packed the leftover supplies back into her health kit.  The typical silence fell over the group as she got it packed and moved over to sit on one of the “beds.”  Coach had moved to another one and pulled a snack bar out of his health kit.  Ellis wasn’t sure when he’d tucked it in there, though seeing it made him really hungry.  He glanced the other way to see Nick standing against the wall, fussing with his suit, his M16 resting on the ground next to him.  The youngest rose and made his way over to the lone table in the room, using his hands to push himself up onto it, being careful not to put any weight on his injured ankle—not that there was much distinction between the two since both were hurting him.  The quiet was making him think serious things again, hopeless thoughts.  He didn’t like it, so he had to think of a distraction really quickly, and just started talking.

“Hey, I ever tell you guys about the time my buddy Keith drove his car off a cliff, broke both his legs?  It’s not a funny ‘ha-ha’ story so much as a make-ya-think story.  I mean, windshields look pretty durable, right?  Not the case, according to Keith—” he started.

“Haven’t we heard this one already?” Nick asked with annoyance.  Ellis’ head drooped and he stopped talking immediately.  Nick wasn’t done yet though.  “What is it with your Keith stories anyway?  Can’t you focus on something more important than your redneck friend for even one minute?”

“That ain’t fair Nick.  I’m just tryinda lighten the mood,” Ellis replied softly.

“Well, how about you don’t, for once, and just focus on reality?  We don’t know where we are, we don’t know why that man is trying to kill us, we don’t know if he’s got back up or not, and we don’t know where to go to get out of this place.  Now is not the time for you to be reminiscing about your buddy Keith,” the gambler continued, sounding harsher than he meant to.  Ellis had had enough.  They’d been fighting all through the south, from Savannah to New Orleans, and every time they thought this nightmare would end, they ended up right back at square one: lost, cold, alone, and huddled together in some piece of shit safe room.

“I don’t wanna focus on reality.  He was my best friend,” Ellis murmured, a hot tear escaping one of his eyes without warning and rolling down his cheek.  He noticed a change in demeanor in the others as they saw it, but he went on, “You don’t know what it’s like Nick, since you wasn’t ever close to no one, but dammit I ain’t ever gonna see him again.  I miss my pre-apocalypse friends, I miss my family.  You guys are so great, and I can’t imagine livin’ without y’all… but the only way for me to’a even met ya was to’ve lost everyone else.  The flu went through Savannah real quick, and Keith… well he was the kinda guy who likes to do stupid shit and take stupid risks, and yeah it was funny _before_ … but there was one escapade he wasn’t able to recover from… and I sure miss him.  And I’m tired of fighting zombies and never knowing if we’ll make it out of here.

“I ain’t smart or cool or-or heartless, like you are, Nick.  People matter to me and I wanna see live ones.  I know there ain’t much a chance of us findin’ anyone trustworthy and immune out here to help us, I ain’t as stupid as I let on.  But if we don’t give people a chance, we’ll never know, y’know?  It’s like… I remember when people would go shoppin’ and gossip with their neighbors, and bake cookies and pies… I miss that kinda life.  I’m sick o’ fightin’ zombies, Nick.  I wanna be able to do stupid shit with Keith again. I just want it all to stop… if I think about what’s really goin’ on, if I focus on reality… it’s too much for me Nick.  Maybe you can handle it, since you don’t care about nobody, but I can’t.  I have to distract myself, and if that means makin’ a fool o’ myself or annoyin’ you guys with my stories ’bout Keith, then so be it.  Anything to think about som’thin’ else, anythin’ else… Otherwise, what’s the point in goin’ on?  I mean look at us, Nick!  We’re in a goddamn bunker or some shit!  Just a tiny, hard, concrete room.  There ain’t even no peanut butter or nothin’ in here to eat!  There’s hordes and hordes o’ zombies and special infected out there, an’ like you said yourself, we ain’t got no idea where we are…

“No, I can’t focus reality for a minute Nick, or I ain’t gonna be able to fight no more,” the mechanic finished, his face damp with the streaks of a few more tears.  The other three were avoiding looking at him, sad expressions etched onto their faces.  Even Nick seemed to regret having asked Ellis to stop.  The silence began to drag along and Ellis shut his eyes.

“Ellis…” Nick said finally.

“Don’t say nothin’ Nick.  I ain’t talkin’ to you right now,” he replied, sliding off the table and laying down on his side on the nearest “bed,” his back to Nick, who still stood near the wall.

“Ellis… I’m sorry about your loss,” Rochelle said softly.  Ellis didn’t say anything.

“When we got the time, let’s talk about Savannah, huh kid?  Maybe we knew some of the same people, or got some places to talk about,” Coach tried.  The other Georgia-native remained silent, staring absently at a wall in front of him, trying to stop crying, but unable to stop the tears.  He was glad, however, that he was at least able to stop himself from shaking or sobbing audibly.

He lay there like that, staring into the past, lost in thought, for an unknown amount of time.  He just kept thinking about all the things he’d been trying for so long _not_ to think about.  It had been fun at first, fighting zombies, it was like a movie, or a video game made real.  It was like he’d been transported to his own adventure.  It wasn’t right though, because in movies and games, there were almost always happy endings, or at least endings, but this wasn’t ending.  It had stopped being fun a while ago and Ellis had been fighting to keep up his cheery attitude for the sake of the team, and himself—making light of the situation was the only way he knew how to handle it.

“Hey… Ellis…” Nick said after a while.  Ellis didn’t answer, hoping he could pretend to be asleep.  But he couldn’t fool the older man.  “I know you’re awake.”

“What? How c’n ya tell?” Ellis demanded without thinking, sitting straight up and whirling around to face the gambler.

“Ha… you just told me, kid.”

Ellis furrowed his brow and pouted a bit.

“Hey, listen, Ellis… I’m sorry about earlier.  I didn’t know about Keith, and how important it is for you to tell those stories,” he said softly.  Ellis couldn’t believe he was apologizing, but he couldn’t stay mad at anyone he liked, least of all Nick.  So, the mechanic nodded, turning up the corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay.  You couldn’t’a known.”

Nick nodded and walked over slowly, taking a seat in front of Ellis on the floor.

“I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, either, it’s just… frustrating, y’know?  I’m trying to think of a way to save our skins and you just keep talking…” he went on.  Ellis avoided his gaze, looking down at his hands and twiddling his thumbs instead.  “We’re different, kid.  I just wanna make sure we get outta this alive.”

“Why do you care?  You’ve said yourself you like the world better like this,” the country boy pointed out.

“Ellis…” Nick started in frustration, “do you really think that’s true?  Do you really think I enjoy this hellhole?”

“Well… no…”

“I may not be as fond of people as you are, or as trusting of them, but I want things to be normal again too.”

Ellis’ head jerked up in surprise, his eyes wide; “You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Well shit, Nick, why are you always so mean to us, and so darn pessimistic and shit?  Sometimes you make it awful hard to keep going, you know.”

“I’m not pessimistic, kid, it’s called realistic.  I’ve seen enough to guess how these things are gonna go.  Everyone gets fucked over.  You can’t trust anyone to help you but yourself.  I’m bitter and sarcastic because, well, it’s a defense mechanism.  Where I’m from, you can’t afford to get close to anyone,” Nick explained, having leaned a bit closer to Ellis as he said that.  Ellis’ shoulders slouched and his head drooped forward, his forehead stopping inches away from Nick’s.

“You can trust us though… we ain’t gonna hurt ya, or leave ya behind or nothin’,” he practically pouted.

“I know…”

“So why’re ya like that?”

“I tease people because I care.”

“What?” Ellis asked, chortling a little.

“Hey, would ya keep it down?  Coach and Rochelle are asleep.”

“You’re mean because _you care_?” Ellis repeated, holding back a guffaw as he rolled back and forth on his bum.  Nick reached out and caught the other man by the shirt, pulling him back close and putting a hand over his mouth.

“I swear to god, overalls, if you tell anyone, I’ll kill you myself before the zombies get a chance,” the gambler threatened.  Ellis raised his hand and motioned that he wouldn’t, shaking his head as well.  Nick carefully let go.  For a moment Ellis didn’t say anything.

“So… it’s like your Keith stories, bein’ an asshole is,” he said quietly.

“Well, I guess you could say that.”

“Hey, Nick?  You’re meanest to me it seems like… does that mean you like me most?” Ellis asked, choosing his wording carefully.  Nick didn’t answer, instead looking down and straightening his suit jacket.  Ellis scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he waited for an answer.  After what seemed like hours to the impatient and suddenly nervous country lad, he had to break the silence again.  “Nick?”

At first, he didn’t think the other man was going to answer him at all.  But Nick did answer him, though not in the way he’d expected.  The older man leaned forward, grabbing Ellis by the back of the head with one hand and by the arm with the other, pulling him to himself and pressing their lips together.  Ellis’ eyes widened and his heart rate increased, but he didn’t pull away.  Nick’s head bumped his hat, causing it to tumble off the back of the southerner’s head.  He closed his eyes and pushed into the kiss, savoring this moment, as weird as it seemed, as a rare good thing in this shit storm.

Nick pulled away then, leaving Ellis confused and longing to feel the older man’s lips again.  He was breathing heavily and staring at Nick in absolute wonder and confusion.  He could feel how hot his cheeks had gotten and it made him feel somewhat embarrassed.

“…Nick?” he managed to ask again, his voice barely more than a breath.  “What… did ya do that for?”

“Well, don’t expect me to start getting soft, El.  I just thought, maybe I can give you at least some part of reality that will give you a reason to fight, instead of a reason not to,” Nick explained.

“I like ya jus’ the way ya are, Nick.”

“Yeah, well… you feel better now, right?  So get some sleep, kid.”

Ellis nodded and lay back down in his “bed,” rolling over again, back to Nick, so the other man wouldn’t see his big doofy grin.  He snatched his hat off the floor in front of him and tucked it into a pocket on his overalls, then closed his eyes to try and sleep.


End file.
